


Five Things Pippin Does in the Bath

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bathtubs, M/M, Naked hobbits!, Other, Silly, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7681021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As advertised in the title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things Pippin Does in the Bath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Semyaza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semyaza/gifts).



> This was a comment-fic many moons ago, which I forgot about, then found (only a decade later, lol) and because, well, because I'm me, I added smut (happy silly hobbit smut!). So here that is. :-) (Also refers to another hobbity story, Private Practice.)

1\. Naval battles.

The scrub brush is an Elvish armada; the three soap bars Goblin forces, sneaking around an elbow to take the Elves by surprise. When that pales, the flannel is a sea creature, rising up from the depths to overwhelm all ships, screams of terror from every hand and terrible waves swamping the boats.

2\. Wank.

He’s nearly 18 when it’s revealed—through the kind offices of his favorite cousin—that wanking is something everyone does. Discovering from Merry that he (Merry) began tossing off when he was 15, Pippin sincerely believes that he has lost time to make up, and he therefore spends an indecent portion of his time with his prick in his hand, behind one or another locked door. (And sometimes in other places, but it’s risky, and after Pippin is nearly caught with his trousers around his ankles in the stables by Nick Chubb, and with his hands down his pants in the supposedly deserted fourth study by Aunt Dahlia, he thinks locked doors are most definitely the way to go.) The bathing room is a perfect place, with locks, bath oils, convenient flannels and hand towels, and a variety of tubs, in a variety of sizes, in which to experiment with this delightful new pastime. He likes the big porcelain tub best; he discovers quickly that he can half-recline with his back braced at one end, feet at the other, and lie back in the warm water for a truly comfortable and memorable wank. When the need is highest—and it does come on quickly, for Pippin is both precocious and curious, a deadly combination in a proddy tween—he sometimes locks himself hastily into the bathing room and leans back against the door, trousers half-down as he presses his head back against the wood and jerks his cock frantically, picturing—what? He doesn’t quite know, but it has to do with fingers and mouths and the plump, shapely legs of hobbit lasses, or (sometimes) the hard, sweaty lines of another lad’s forearms or back. Just picturing it gets him heated in a minute or two, and so he leans back and slaps his hand up and down and peaks in record time, gasping, mouth open, eyes closed tight. Then he sighs, straightens, cleans his trousers and the floor, and runs a nice warm bath. Once in the tub, he runs the flannel all over his body, and the want rises again (and so does his cock—it’s very demanding, his prick, always clamouring for attention) and he goes slowly, teasing at his nipples, wondering what it would be like to touch a lass between her legs, or press his lips to the rounded curve of breast he sees just above the deep neckline of her dress. Sometimes he lets his mind wander, and he touches himself while vague images float into his mind, of fingers and mouths and skin under and over his own hands, legs, belly, prick. His hands roam his body: nipples and lips, the flat line of his too-skinny belly, the ticklish, sensitive place between thigh and groin, his balls (which he loves to touch almost as much as his cock), and the place behind them, where—if he touches, presses, rubs while he wanks—it feels so good it brings him close to the edge astonishingly quickly. He stops, then, pulling back from the edge again and again until he can’t wait anymore; then he braces his feet and lets his hips work, head back and eyes closed, lips parted, thrusting his prick into his slippery fist and coming with quite a lot of splashing and gasping. (Oh, and later, after he and Merry have come to know one another in new ways—well, then the bath oils really come into their own, and Pippin is quite adventurous in the bathtub, indeed.)

3\. Sing. 

He loves Bilbo's song for this, but there are at least ten other songs that can be heard regularly, warbled or bellowed or crooned from the bathing room, and most of them seem to require copious amounts of splashing. (The top five: _Charlotte the Harlot, Roll Your Leg Over, Seventeen Come Sunday, The Chandler’s Wife_ , and _The Wayward Took_.)

4\. Lurk underwater, only his eyes and nose showing, lying in wait for his hapless cousin.

When Merry does come in, Leviathan erupts from the depths! (This game once went terribly wrong, when Pippin was lurking silently, sure it was Merry at the door, but it turned out to be his cousin Lavender, and both of them saw much too much of the other, and neither could look at the other for a good three weeks, and—oh, dear, it just went terribly wrong and that’s all Pippin ever says about it, and Lavender slapped Merry smartly, right on the cheek, when he grinned and asked her about it. Merry hastily retreated, and Pippin pointed and laughed at him, and, well. Merry didn’t ask again.)

5\. Wrestle with Merry. This can mean many things, and has meant many things, and Pippin will only grin and blush and sing bawdy songs if asked what it means in any particular case. (There was once at Brandy Hall that, what with bath oils and smirking and pinching and teasing and slipping and pushing and shoving and groaning—slick skin and oily hands, hasty kisses and breathless giggles—nearly ended in drowning; luckily a happy ending for all was achieved—and how!—but clean-up took every towel and flannel on the well-stocked Brandybuck shelves, and Merry and Pippin both stayed up late doing laundry to avoid being caught out in the morning.)

(It should be noted that in every instance named above, the floor will end up flooded and the towels will be sopping.)


End file.
